


nothing without you

by aelescribe



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: M/M, Past Relationship(s), past solangelo - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 08:03:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14256555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aelescribe/pseuds/aelescribe
Summary: The one where Jason and Nico are estranged and Nico shows up bleeding on Jason's doorstep because he didn't know where else to go.





	nothing without you

Nico isn’t running away.

That’s what he tells Will when he’s stuffing ambrosia and nectar into his knapsack, raiding the infirmary for all it’s worth, and pushing him off from trying to give a goodbye kiss. That’s what he tells Hazel when he’s telling her that he’ll be gone for a few weeks and not to worry, trying not to read into the wrinkles of her brow in her watery projection. 

He’s loathe to believe there’s a manticore nest causing this much trouble in a college town, but his father pays well. He’s offering him more missions lately, trying to draw him out of the slump he’s fallen in. It’s been… what, a year and a half? No, longer, since Jason left for college.

Jason didn’t cut them off. 

That’s what he told Nico when their calls got few and far between. Before and after he left both camps for good to get a space his own in a city far away. That’s what he told Leo and Piper when they came over uninvited and he told them that yes, he loved them, but he wasn’t taking guests and wanted a warning next time. 

Jason is the one who ran away. Everyone thought it would be Nico. But Jason needed away from his powerful father, his haunting mother, and everything that gave him that baggage in the first place. He loves his friends, loves the camps, but it was too much for him. Nico understands. It’s selfish, but he wishes he could do the same. And as angry as he is at Jason for leaving, he isn’t nearly as upset for Jason not asking him to come with.

Nico isn’t alone. He has Hazel, he has Reyna. Percy and Annabeth now have reforged--or, finally forged a friendship with him. Even Will, to an extent. That’s gotten less sour even after their breakup. Piper has become an unexpected heart, and Leo and Frank can relate to his geekier tendencies.

But Jason… Jason’s absence leaves this obnoxious itch. It’s a scab and it won’t bleed, he’s too careful when he picks at it for that, but it  _ itches _ the back of his mind and every part of his skin that Jason’s ever touched and behind his eyes since he can only see Jason in his memory now.

It’s itching on every bus ride. He would shadow travel but he wants to save his strength for the manticore nest, and he likes the contemplation of long, lonely roads. It’s itching when he reaches the hole in the wall blinking beastly eyes back at him. It’s itching cold and he  _ freezes _ when a manticore slinks out and lunges for him because he’s suddenly not seventeen, he’s just a child back on that snowy mountain with his sister and there’s no Percy, no Jason, he’s just alone. 

What a stupid mistake. 

Nico grips his bleeding stomach and slumps against a crumbling wall. Shit. The manticores are fading into dust, now, but one of their tails pierced his right side in his foolish frozen state. He tries to breathe and coughs red specks into his hand. Double shit.

Camp Halfblood isn’t too far away. He might be out for a day or two after shadow travelling in this state, but he could do it. Then again, he thinks of Will. Nico would rather take his chances alone than get lectured by Will about  _ being careful _ and  _ taking care of himself _ and  _ not running away _ . Well, he isn’t running away. But he knows he won’t believe him. Hazel and Reyna, wonderful though they are, probably won’t either. He doesn’t want to risk their disappointment. Gods he loves them but he  _ knows _ they’ll just look at him like he’s an ill fourteen year old again. He can’t handle that right now.

Nico isn’t sure where to go.

Well, that isn’t true. Nico has friends, he has options. But there’s only one place he wants to go. The only place he’s wanted to go out of everywhere he’s been the last almost three years. Gods, has it been that long? He just wants to see Jason again. Because Jason is the one who ran away and now it’s up to Nico to chase him. He lets that thought consume him and steps into shadow.

He hits his head on the door of an apartment when he emerges from the darkness and hisses. The wound on his stomach gapes open, no matter how tight his fist clenches in his shirt. He uses his other to brace himself against the doorframe. He hears shifting, footsteps inside. A familiar weight casting shadow behind the door. Nico almost sobs. 

When Jason opens the door, he stops cold. His golden hair is slightly longer, now, curling lovely over his ears. It shines with his imperial glasses. His eyes are still that annoying sky blue that gave Nico courage to brave heights again. He wonders if he’s changed any in Jason’s eyes while he takes in Nico standing on his doormat. There’s a shocked almost smile curving his lips before he sees the blood Nico’s trailing on his boots and Jason’s paw print patterned doormat.  _ How dorky _ , Nico thinks in his haze of consciousness. “N… Nico--?”

Nico opens his mouth to speak but his throat is  _ so  _ dry, blood coating the back of his tongue. His vision is getting hazy. The thought occurs that he isn’t sure what he would say even if he  _ wasn’t _ bleeding all over Jason’s doorstep. “... Didn’t know where else to go,” he whispers. That’s when he gives up standing and sinks to his knees. At least the mat is cushioned. 

“Oh--oh no, shit,” Jason curses. He tries sliding his arms under Nico’s to help him stand but it only makes him groan in pain. Black spots dance in his vision. “Nico--” His voice cracks. He sweeps him up in his arms and Nico lets his head loll on Jason’s shoulder. He’s warm. He still smells the same--cool air, damp autumn leaves. He steadies his tone and kicks the door shut behind him. “Stay awake, Nico.”

“Mmm,” he mumbles back. Jason must not realize how hard that is, with Nico cradled in his strong, warm arms. Jason sets him upright on a couch and Nico wonders if it’s simply coincidence that everything he owns is so soft and welcoming. It’s not fair. 

Jason’s footsteps recede and Nico’s left shivering and gasping for air, but soon enough he’s back with ambrosia, bandages, and some other essentials. “I need to take off your jacket and your shirt, Nico, so I can get a look at the wound. Is that okay?”

There’s no need to be so respectful when Nico’s baring his guts on Jason’s couch, but he appreciates it. He nods and Jason carefully, quickly peels the clothes off of him and rolls Nico onto his good side to inspect the wound. 

“Oh, Gods,” Jason mutters. The snip of scissors. Cold cloth and a stinging in his wound. Jason’s fingers gracing his lips, prying his mouth open to feed him ambrosia. However long, Nico remains in a vaguely conscious state, wondering if maybe the manticore actually killed him and his father’s just granting him one last lovely vision in his last few moments of life. 

Jason’s brows knit in concentration while he cleans and stitches the wound. His tongue sticks out of the side of his mouth, just slightly. A cute habit Nico noticed long ago. His glasses are crooked from his frenzy to save Nico. He tries to comment but it only comes out a long wheeze.

“Save your strength,” the son of Jupiter murmurs, resting a hand on his pulsing stomach.

Nico forces his shaking hand over Jason’s and squeezes it. Reaches a little farther, straining his wound to fix Jason’s glasses and brush a lock behind his ear.  _ Worth it, _ he decides even when his vision blurs. Jason’s wide eyes are clear and in a moment of impulse, while Nico’s wrist is pressed to his cheek, he turns his head and breathes him in. The flutter of his lips is almost a kiss. Almost.

Maybe an hour passes when he’s done bleeding and Jason’s bandages are taut across his ribs. He stares at the ceiling, a soiled, pale yellow that Jason, only Jason, has managed to make feel  _ homey _ . He’s slumped against the couch at Nico’s feet, wiping sweat from his brow. He hands Nico a bottle of water which he greedily gulps down.

Now that everything’s clearer, it’s more sour, too. Some of his resentment toward Jason is rising again. Jason was more than happy to stitch Nico up, no questions asked, but he doesn’t want to deal with the repercussions of showing up at his doorstep. But really,  _ what _ was Nico expecting? Some easy fix and happy ending to the stillness that’s stifled them?

Now he’s awake enough for his wound to sting and regrets to sink in. The blanket Jason draped over his legs is the heaviest lead. He slowly caps the water bottle. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Jason says. Silence stretches between them as Jason gathers up the scattered medical supplies. “I’ll go set up the guest room. I think you’ll be more comfortable there. You can stay as long as you want.”

Nico pulls the blanket up over his shoulder with a wince and closes his eyes. “I’ll be gone by morning.”

Jason stands abruptly. “But… you’re injured.” 

He waves a dismissive hand to show Jason he’s fine, no matter how much his stomach throbs in response. “I’ve had worse.”

“Had wor--” the son of Jupiter repeats softly. “Nico, it’s been years. Are you all right?”

Nico turns to lay on his stomach, burying his face in the crook of his elbow. He’s embarrassed himself enough already. Who is he to call Jason selfish for doing exactly what Nico may have done? He’s too close to this situation and too full of emotion. Maybe he’ll come back in another week, or month, or year, once he’s decided he has something to actually say. “Good  _ night _ , Grace.”

Nico sleeps fitfully, drawn in and out of consciousness by his wound. He hears Jason mulling around sometimes, restless, rearranging things in his apartment. Sometimes he sits at the foot of the couch. Sometimes he sits so close that his hair touches Nico’s, soft blond tufts drawn into his dark, sweat-soaked strands. It could all have happened in a manner of minutes or hours and Nico would be none the wiser to the passing of time.

He wakes up when it’s still dark and he can breathe with his side again. Jason’s left his jacket and a camp shirt at the edge of the couch, since Nico’s own was too torn to mend. The shirt seems new, hardly worn. Perhaps Jason took it with for a memento, only for it to become too heavy and burdened with the past, and letting it find home in the dark recesses of a closet or hamper. Soft and purple, it smells like Jason, so he lets it slide.

Sometime during the night Jason removed his boots and set them beside the couch. Probably hoping that would entice a more comfortable Nico into staying longer. Nico’s lacing up his boots again when he smells something delicious. His stomach growls and he has to admit, he’s curious and  _ starving _ , so he follows his nose to a quaint kitchen. 

Jason’s in his same clothes from yesterday so Nico assumes he hasn’t slept. He glances at the dim digital clock on the stove. “It’s four in the morning,” he tells Jason, who only nods as he turns around, dishing some food onto a plate. “ _ Why _ are you cooking hamburgers?”

He sets two plates on a small, weathered round table. “I was hoping to catch you for breakfast before you go.”  _ And I couldn’t sleep _ is left unsaid. 

He’s finding it harder and harder to hang onto the frustration he feels toward Jason. “Burgers, though?”

“Only food I remember you liking.” He gives a lopsided grin, kind, apologetic. Nico’s resentment melts so easily with just a look from him. It’s unnerving how quickly Jason can disarm him with the smallest motion of his lips. Even moreso that Nico lets him. Welcomes it, even. He’s missed it the last… however long Jason’s been gone.

He squints, scooting the chair aside to take a seat, insisting, “I do eat other things.”

Jason sits too. “Like?”

“Chicken tenders.” He’s talking with his mouth full and Jason can  _ deal _ with it.

“You’re joking.”

He licks burger grease from his fingertips. “Half-joking,” Refuses his napkin just to watch Jason squirm. “Pizza’s good, too.”

“I thought our American cuisine would offend your good Italian sensibilities,” Jason chuckles. He seems less concerned with eating, instead watching Nico through lidded eyes. He wonders if that’s because Jason is too fond or too tired.

“I’ll go easy on you just this once,” Nico replies. “For old time’s sake.” Demigods don’t traditionally live long, so the last few years apart may as well account for an eternity, if how much he missed Jason is all he has to go on. 

They lapse into a comfortable silence and Nico is happy to gorge himself while Jason watches, somewhere between amused and concerned. “You’re eating.” Nico blinks. “I mean, uh--it’s good. You’ve got your appetite back.”

Nico snorts. “Lot of good that does me. Will says I’m not likely to get any taller.” It only has an eensy bit to do with the malnutrition that’s plagued Nico most of his life.

At the mention of his name, Jason’s brow creases. He lingers on the bite in his mouth, as though it’s become lead, hard to swallow. “How is Will, by the way?” He thumps his chest with his fist.

“Fine. Annoying. You know how he is.” Nico sucks the grease out of his hamburger bun. “We broke up a while ago.”

“I’m sorry.” 

Jason’s response is so flat and unsympathetic that Nico almost laughs. So he calls him out on it. “You’re not.”

He sighs and eventually agrees. “No, I’m not.”

They don’t talk much. Nico wants to fill him in on everything that’s happened, or relate some story or joke to him, but he has to delve into a long string of explanation that makes Jason’s eyes sag. So they give up on talking about camp and Jason doesn’t talk about his mundane mortal charade.

All he says is, “It’s nice. I feel like I can breathe for once. There are monsters, still, sometimes. But it’s quiet. Peaceful. Almost perfect.” His gaze flickers across the table and the son of Hades squirms in his seat. There’s an unspoken regret there, heavy as autumn rain. Nico can feel that same weight in his chest. It’s a little hard to breathe, suddenly, when Jason’s looking at him like that. He takes Nico’s greasy, calloused hand in his own. So warm, so perfect. “You could stay, if you like. Not forever. Just...”

Gods, Nico wants nothing more. He bites his lip, brushing his thumb over the back of Jason’s hand. “You left for a reason. Right?” And the manticore’s claws have nothing on the ache of his heart. His voice is deep and deadpan. “It had to be a good reason for you to leave like that.”  _ To leave  _ me.

Jason bows his head. “I thought… at the time, I thought it was a good reason. Lately, I’ve been having doubts.” Nico does not bare his heart, does not inflict upon Jason every scathing word and teary night that’s attributed to his absence. He just stares at Jason and drinks in the sorrow seeping through his hands into Nico. And it all comes crashing into his chest when Jason apologizes in the softest voice Nico’s ever heard.

“I know.” Nico lets their fingers intertwine. They sit at the table holding hands, food left forgotten on their plates, and the next time he blinks it’s sunrise. Sweet mauve tints Jason’s glasses through the kitchen blinds. He’s giddy and fourteen again, all the hurt and heart in the world when Jason gives him a smile.

“I can’t shadow travel back home like this,” Nico says finally. Jason blinks. “And I don’t feel like taking public transportation back to New York.”

A smile widens Jason’s face. “You mean--”

“I’m injured,” Nico reaffirms. “I’ll need food. If it’s not too much trouble--”

“Are you kidding? Of course not!” Jason stands and spreads his arms for a hug then abruptly pauses. “Oh. Sorry, uh, I forgot. No touching.” As if they hadn’t been holding hands for the last twenty minutes. Maybe longer.

Nico raises his arms just so Jason can slide his around his waist. “You’re the exception, remember?”

The sunrise isn’t what tints his face pink when he approaches Nico for a hug. It’s firm and comfortable. He missed this feeling so much. Jason’s warm arms around him, the way his head nestles in the crook of Nico’s neck, how his breath settles on the edge of Nico’s ear, the snug clasp of his hands at Nico’s low back.

“I can’t believe it took this long for this place to really feel like home.” Jason’s voice trembles when speaks.

  
Nico sighs and sinks deeper into him. He can’t believe it’s taken this long for both of them to accept that. So he kicks off his boots and tells Jason he’ll stay for dinner tonight ( _ That’s all I can say, no promises) _ and they’ll go from there.

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by the song of the same name by emma blackery and talks with @fuocogo on tumblr. honestly one of my favorite jasico tropes. hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
